Lady of the Barricade
by TifaMafia
Summary: While out on a walk with Marius one afternoon, Enjolras meets someone new, a young girl by the name of Gabrielle. With his mother on her deathbed and his father constantly picking fights, Enjolras struggles to keep sane. As the revolution comes around Enjolras becomes more confident on protecting one of the only things left in the world to love, France.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was a beautiful day outside as Gabrielle LeVesque made her way to the market. The wind caught her long, golden hair and blew it around in its gentle gusts. She almost laughed aloud out of pure joy but chose not to, fearing people would think she were out of her mind. Then again, what did she care? Gabrielle quietly laughed at the wind that tossed her hair around, but stopped once she reached a close friend of hers at the market.

"What are you laughing about?" Eponine Thenardier asked Gabrielle, smile breaking out on her face. In honest truth, Eponine found it difficult to smile most of the time. Only two things seemed to make her smile at that point in her young life: the man she loved, and being in good company.

"Oh, it is really nothing," Gabrielle tried to explain. She gestured to the air around her. "It's just that the wind is rather playful today," she managed to say before giggling.

"You sure are an odd one today, Gabbie," Eponine remarked.

As the two began their daily walk together, Gabrielle looked at Eponine and said, "So when do I get to see meet this Marius Pontmercy you tell me about?"

Eponine looked troubled. "Never," she finally decided. "He is never around anyway."

Meanwhile, as the two girls walked in one direction down the road, two young gentlemen made their way along the road in the other direction, toward them.

One of them was tall and thin, yet muscular with eyes as blue as the sky. His blonde hair hung in curls that framed his face and bounced up and down with every step he took. One his face it was rare to find a smile. Some would say he took life seriously, almost too seriously. This young man was none other than Elliott Enjolras, the only child of a very wealthy Parisian family. Although he may have liked his first name, he preferred that everyone but those outside of his family call him by his last name, Enjolras.

The other was also tall and thin with short brown hair and blue eyes. He too was from a wealthy family. This young man was very different from his straight-faced companion. His and Enjolras' friends always joked that he was the one with life in him. In the young man's eyes, Enjolras had as much life as he did, but he expressed it in a different way. This young man was no other than Marius Pontmercy, the object of Eponine's affection.

"Everything is just going downhill, Marius," Enjolras said to his friend. "Something needs to happen, and it needs to happen soon." He looked over at Marius, who had is eyes focused on the busy street around them. "Marius, are you even listening to me?"

"Of course I am, Enjolras," Marius absently answered. "You know I always listen to you."

"Marius, this is our freedom I'm talking about! Do you want to be a slave of the law forever?" He sighed when Marius absently nodded. "Marius!" he snapped. Enjolras quickly looked forward and realized there were two young ladies in front of him and Marius who were involved in a conversation, oblivious that they young men were heading their way. The moment he saw them it was too late. He and Marius ran into them, knocking them both straight to the ground. "Forgive me!" Enjolras exclaimed, offering his hand to the young lady he knocked down so he could help her up. "I did not see you there!"

Gabrielle grabbed his hand. "I guess not," she laughed as Enjolras and Marius proceeded to help her and Eponine up.

"My apologies," Enjolras continued, bowing his head in shame.

"There is no need to apologize, monsieur," Gabrielle said, smile on her face growing wider. "No harm done, so there's no need to worry."

When Enjolras looked up and saw her smile, he turned red and quickly looked away. "It was not very gentleman-like."

"No need to go on," Gabrielle told him, waving his apologies away with a flick of her hand. "What's done is done."

"But mademoiselle…" Enjolras protested before seeing her smile again. He looked down once more. "As you wish, mademoiselle."

"Gabbie, I would like you to meet two of my friends," Eponine said, gesturing to the two young gentlemen.

"My name is Marius Pontmercy," the dark-haired one stated. As Marius grabbed Gabrielle's hand and kissed it, she exchanged a look with Eponine, who blushed a bright red and looked down. "It is a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle."

Enjolras just stood there for a moment before realizing he had yet to introduce himself. "I am Elliott Enjolras," he told Gabrielle, taking her hand. The moment his lips grazed her hand, Gabrielle got chills throughout her body. "It is an honor to meet you. Might I ask what your name is?"

"Certainly," Gabrielle answered. She curtseyed. "My name is Gabrielle LeVesque."

"Gabrielle," Marius echoed. "Such a beautiful name."

"Would you like to accompany us on our walk?" Eponine asked Marius, casually coming up with an excuse to spend more time with him. "After all, we are young ladies."

Enjolras and Marius exchanged a glance. "Of course we would," Marius agreed as Enjolras stared at him. "Calm down," Marius muttered to his friend. "You may thank me for this later."

Enjolras scoffed. "I'm sure I will," he answered flatly.

"Why haven't we seen you before?" Marius asked Gabrielle as they began their walk.

Gabrielle shrugged. "I am always just here and there," she admitted. "I'm usually with Ponine, though." She smiled and gestured to her dear friend. "And why haven't I seen you before?" She looked expectantly at Marius, and then at Enjolras, who looked away.

"That's for you to decide," Eponine stated, a hint of mischief in her voice. Marius smiled over at her. Eponine looked up at the orange and pink sky. "Gabbie, you need to get home!" she exclaimed, pointing up at the sky.

Gabrielle's eyes widened. "You're right, Ponine!" She turned to her companions. "It's been wonderful, but I really must go!" She smiled at Marius and Enjolras. "Perhaps we shall meet again!"

As Enjolras watched her walk away he began to worry. Men in that part of Paris weren't too kind to ladies like Gabrielle. His eyes followed her as she weaved in and out of the many crowds of people. Once she disappeared from sight, he knew what he had to do.

"It was good to see you, Eponine," he stated, bringing her hand up to his mouth and placing a kiss upon it. He put a hand on Marius' shoulder. "I shall see you later my friend," he told him before running off in the direction Gabrielle had left.

"Where do you suppose he's going?" Marius asked Eponine.

Eponine admirably watched Enjolras. "A young lady should never have to walk home alone," she absently stated.

Marius offered her his arm. "Then shall I escort you home?" he asked. Eponine smiled and blushed. "Ponine, you did say that a young lady should never have to walk home alone." He re-offered his arm to his friend. Eponine blushed even more, but she took it. "And now we shall be on our way."

As Marius and Eponine made their way down the street, Enjolras weaved in and out of crowds of people in search of the young lady he had previously encountered. He knew she couldn't have gotten too far. Suddenly he spotted her. She was in a near run.

"Gabrielle!" he called out. The girl stopped dead in her tracks. "Gabrielle, wait!" Once he caught up with her, he had to stop and catch his breath. "You are fast, mademoiselle," he commented.

"Why did you follow me, Elliott?" she asked him, terrified that he may do something terrible to her.

Enjolras paused for a moment, shocked by hearing her call him by his first name. " young lady should never walk home alone," he stated, surprised that his voice didn't shake. He took a deep breath. "So I have come, offering to escort you home." Enjolras attempted a smile and offered her his arm.

"Do you not smile often?" Gabrielle asked, taking his arm. Enjolras shook his head. "Why not, Elliott? There are many things this world has offered that you can smile about. Like this, for example." She gestured up to the sky. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"I admire your love for life," Enjolras told her, "but I could never love my life while it is ruled by a dictator. When we are all free, perhaps I could then, but not now."

"A rebel?" she suggested, smiling up at Enjolras.

The young gentleman scoffed. "Call it what you will, but I would gladly die for the freedom of my country."

"I meant no harm," Gabrielle assured.

"I know," Enjolras stated, looking at the crowds around them. "I take no offense."

Gabrielle looked up at the sky. "There will be quite a racket at my house once I get home tonight."

"Why is that?" Enjolras asked, looking at her.

"I was out this late alone," she explained. "They may not let me leave the house again."

"But you were not alone." Gabrielle looked up at Enjolras. "You were with me. Let me speak with your parents."

"I do not think you should," Gabrielle warned. "I cannot imagine what they would do if I came home late, and also with a gentleman they had never met."

"I really should explain," Enjolras insisted.

"Perhaps another time," Gabrielle responded. "Please. I want to be able to see you again."

Enjolras couldn't figure out what she meant by that. Why would she want to see him again after they had just met? Did she consider him a friend? Most importantly, did he consider her a friend? He always had these thoughts when he met someone new.

"Why would you want to see me again?" he asked her.

"So I can teach you how to smile, monsieur," she simply answered, looking up at her escort.

He wouldn't let himself look at her. "Why would I need to?"

"You would be surprised at what a simple smile can do to someone." Gabrielle pointed to the nearest house. "It's the white one."

"We shall see about the smile," Enjolras told her as they reached the majestic and beautiful white house. "In the meantime, how about you accompany me on a walk tomorrow afternoon?" Gabrielle nodded. "Meet me at the marketplace at one?" Gabrielle smiled as he kissed her hand. "Until then, Gabrielle. Have a good night." With that, he simply walked away.

Gabrielle watched him go for a few moments before opening the front door of her house. No one was in the front hall, so she quietly closed the door and attempted to sneak past her father's study.

"Gabrielle, is that you?" Jacques LeVesque asked his only child, stopping her dead in her tracks in the middle of the doorway. Gabrielle slowly looked in to see not only her father, but her mother in there as well, both with closed books in their laps. "Why are you home so late?"

Sylvie LeVesque stood up, nearly trembling with rage. Strands of loose, dark hair hung in her piercing, green eyes. "Gabrielle, where have you been?" she demanded, trying to keep herself composed. "It is past dusk and you father and I have been worried sick!"

Gabrielle looked down. "I'm sorry, Mama. I am sorry, Papa," she recited, as she always did when lectured.

"Gabrielle, I think you should stay home tomorrow," Sylvie suggested. Gabrielle, as well as everyone else in the world, knew that Sylvie never suggested anything. She commanded it.

Gabrielle's head snapped straight up as she thought of Enjolras. "But Mama," she began, "the fresh air clears my head."

"Apparently makes it too clear," Sylvie commented. With that comment, Gabrielle knew all hope was lost.

"Now Sylvie," Jacques said, "Gabrielle should be allowed out tomorrow. It is good for her health."

Sylvie's piercing glare was then directed to her husband. "Jacques, you are no help at all," she snapped. She took a rather deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "Gabrielle, you may go out tomorrow, but only if you go to bed now and make sure you're home at dusk tomorrow evening."

"Mama!" Gabrielle smiled and ran to her mother. She kissed both of Sylvie's cheeks and ran to her father to do the same. "Papa!" She smiled wider as she gave Jacques an extra kiss. "Goodnight," she announced, making her way to the doorway. "I love you," she told them before making her was to her room, head filled with thoughts of Enjolras. She couldn't help but wonder what the next day would be like, and also wondered how she would ever be able to sleep.

As Enjolras walked home that evening, all he could do was mentally ask himself, "What have I done?" As he thought more and more about Gabrielle, he wanted more and more to back out of it, but that would not be very gentleman-like at all. He sighed aloud as he reached his elegant brick house. For a moment, he just stared absently at his home as he thought over his conversation with Gabrielle. It wasn't that he was nervous about meeting up with her. It was the fact that he suggested meeting her the next day without even thinking it over first. Enjolras always thought things over before making decisions, so why didn't he this time?

Enjolras sighed another time as he entered his home. Though he was twenty-two years old and still living with his parents due to his mother's poor health, he did not want them to hear him. I was not because he was afraid of them. It was because he couldn't bear to upset his mother.

"Elliott!" he heard his mother faintly call. "Elliott, is that you, darling?"

Enjolras hurried to his mother's room and looked in. "Yes Mother, it is me."

Eleanor Enjolras stretched her pale, frail arms toward him. "Come to me, my child," she told him, her voice barely a whisper. Her blue eyes sparkled lovingly and her golden curls were spread around the pillow beneath her head. Enjolras favored his mother in appearance.

Enjolras slowly entered his mother's bedroom and sat on the chair next to her bed. "I am here," he told her, placing his hand on top of hers.

"Elliott," she sighed, giving her only child a loving smile. "Where did you go today? Tell me about your day." Eleanor loved hearing news from her son, knowing it would be the only news she would hear about things outside of the house. She knew Enjolras filtered the things he told her, but was thankful that he would at least talk with her, unlike her own husband.

"I just went on a walk with Marius," he told her. His mother's bright smile caused him to tell her more. "I also met someone new," he added.

"A young lady?" Eleanor whispered, raising her eyebrows. Enjolras gave her a small smile, the only smile he could ever manage, and only for his mother. "Oh, my dear Elliott." She smiled at her son. "Will you court her?"

Enjolras shook his head. "I don't think so," he quietly answered. His mother gave him a questioning look. "I am too busy," he explained. "I have no time for courting."

"When will you see her again?" she asked, slipping her fingers between his.

Enjolras mentally debate whether to tell her of his plans for the next day or not. "I shall see her tomorrow," he decided. When he saw his mother's smile, he knew he had made a good choice.

"Tell me her name," Eleanor dreamily asked of her son.

Enjolras thought for a moment. "Her name is Gabrielle LeVesque," he told her.

"Gabrielle," Eleanor echoed. "What a beautiful name. Does her beauty match her name?"

"I'm not certain," he admitted. "I didn't really look at her."

"How long were you with her?" Eleanor asked, her excitement showing in her voice.

"Elliott!" Enjolras looked up to see his father, Andre Enjolras, standing in the doorway, hands behind his back. "Leave this room at once!"

"I love you, Mother," Enjolras told Eleanor before kissing both of her cheeks. "Have a good night." The son kissed his mother's forehead and gave her one last small smile before his father impatiently cleared his throat. "Have a good night, Father," he said on his way out.

Andre grabbed his son's arm and ripped him back. "You go to my study, boy," he growled into Enjolras' ear.

Enjolras nodded. "Yes Father," he quietly answered.

Once Andre released his son's arm, Enjolras made his way up the stairs to his father's study. On his walk there, all Enjolras could do was think about how much he despised the father God had given him. Andre did not want his son to speak to Eleanor. He didn't want her to know what France had come to. He especially did not want his son to upset his sickly wife. In his eyes, Eleanor's health was rapidly deteriorating, whereas Enjolras believed that she was starting to regain it.

"Elliott, what did you think you were doing?" Andre snapped at his son, slamming the door to the study.

"She called me in there, Father," Enjolras answered, locking eyes with his father's fierce glare. The calm look in his fearless eyes made Andre slightly uncomfortable. "What else should I have done?"

"Pretend you don't hear her!" Andre shot back. "It's what I do!"

"Father, I respect the women in my life," Enjolras calmly explained. "If I hear them, I will go to them. Father, you are the one who taught me to do so. I will not ignore my mother."

Andre stepped up to Enjolras and stopped once they were face-to-face. "You will do as I tell you, boy. I do not want you talking with my wife anymore."

"She is as much my mother as she is your wife, perhaps more." Enjolras narrowed his eyes. "Her blood flows through my veins, not yours."

"I will not let you talk to me like that!" Andre hit his son, knocking him to the floor. "You stay away from your mother, Elliott! Do you hear me?" He glared angrily at Enjolras, who calmly looked back, infuriating Andre even more. "Why are you so calm?!" Andre bellowed.

"I have no reason to be angry," Enjolras told him.

Andre hit his son. "And how do you feel now? Are you angry now?"

"No Father," Enjolras calmly answered, standing back up.

The father dealt his son yet another heavy blow, once again knocking him to the floor. "You are an Enjolras, Elliott! You have the blood of angry men flowing through your veins!" Enjolras clenched his fists, angry from hearing his blood compared to the blood of the rest of the Enjolras men. "Am I upsetting you?" Andre asked his son, gesturing to Enjolras' fists. Enjolras' breathing became heavier. "Be angry, Elliott!"

Enjolras simply turned on his heel and went to open the door to the study. "Goodnight Father," he calmly stated before leaving. If there was one thing Elliott Enjolras was good at, it was controlling himself, just another thing his mother had taught him as a boy. His father would have to be out of his mind if he wondered why Enjolras was never home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Gabrielle quickly made her way to the market to meet up with her new acquaintance. She feared she was early, though she wouldn't mind waiting. In her mind, she knew that Enjolras would probably be upset if he found her waiting, so she immediately slowed her pace.

Enjolras arrived at the market just as Gabrielle did. She smiled when she saw the young gentleman looking her way and walked over. He looked away as she approached him.

"Good day, Elliott," she greeted.

Enjolras bowed his head. "Good day, mademoiselle," he answered, grabbing her hand. He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss upon it. "Where shall we walk today?"

"I shall decide when you actually look at me, monsieur," Gabrielle answered as he let go of her hand.

Enjolras held his breath and thought it over for a moment. What would Gabrielle say? After a few moments, he slowly raised his head, revealing the bruises on his eyes and right cheek. He right eye was squinted from the swelling, yet it did not lose the glimmer of hope that always shone in it.

Gabrielle gasped. "What happened to you, monsieur?" She reached up to him and he put up his arms, blocking her. "Monsieur?"

"It is nothing," Enjolras answered, looking away. He quickly changed the subject "Where to, mademoiselle?" he asked, offering Gabrielle his arm.

Gabrielle took it. "Just lead me wherever, monsieur." Only once they were away from the many crowds did she dare to ask again. "Who did that to you, monsieur?" she anxiously asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

"It really is nothing," Enjolras repeated. He sighed internally, knowing that she would keep asking until he told her something. "I got into a disagreement with someone last night," he stated before clearing his throat to signify that he no longer wished to speak of it.

"Was it your father?" Gabrielle asked.

Enjolras cleared his throat once again. "It is a lovely day outside," he commented.

This time Gabrielle understood and took the hint. "It is," she agreed. She smiled at her escort. "Thank you for inviting me out on this walk with you today, Elliott."

Enjolras was about to correct her on which name of his to use, but decided not to. He secretly liked the change of a new person calling him by his first name. Enjolras looked down at Gabrielle. "The pleasure is all mine, mademoiselle."

"No need to call me mademoiselle," she told him, voice bright and cheery. "My name is Gabrielle."

"I am aware," Enjolras assured.

"There is no need to be so formal, Elliott. We are friends, are we not?"

Enjolras thought over what she had just said for a moment. Were they friends? Did he want to be her friend? "Yes," he finally decided. "Yes, we are friends, Gabrielle." Gabrielle smiled up at him. "What I do not understand, though, is why you would want to be friends with someone like me, and Enjolras."

"What is wrong with you being an Enjolras?" Gabrielle curiously asked.

"Never mind that, Gabrielle," Enjolras stated. "You will find out soon enough." He squinted as they turned in the direction of the sun. "So tell me of yourself," he suggested. "What do you enjoy doing?"

"I enjoy painting," Gabrielle dreamily answered. "I could paint all day, but my mother prefers that I do not. She told me that nothing would come of it. But it seems to be the only thing I do well. What do you enjoy, Elliott?"

"I write," he absently stated

"A poet?" Gabrielle smiled up at him.

Enjolras almost smiled. "Some," he told her. "I write what I feel."

"Will you share your work?"

Enjolras thought for a moment. "Doubtful," he decided. "No one would like to read it anyway."

"I would," Gabrielle told him.

The young gentleman was quite surprised. His mother was the only person he had ever shared his writings with. Why would this young lady care about them? "Perhaps I will write something for you one day."

"I would like that."

For quite some time, Gabrielle got Enjolras to talk about his writings, wide-eyed in awe of his brilliance. No one had ever asked the young man of his writing. He always figured it as unimportant. Yet as he discussed it with Gabrielle, he found a strange feeling of contentment, of confidence. Could it be that this young lady was interested in what he did?

"Why do you ask of my writings?" he finally asked her.

"It is because I wish I were able to write like you, Elliott," she simply said. "My writing is very poor, yet yours sounds grand!"

"They are not as grand as you make them appear to be," Enjolras told her, looking away out of embarrassment from talking on and on about himself for so long. He had more pride than that. "I apologize for carrying on the way I did. It was foolish of me."

"No need to apologize, Elliott," she told him. "It seems to me that you have no chances to speak any other time."

Enjolras was troubled. How could she have known so much about him? Was it such a lucky guess? Then came the thought which he feared most. Was his expression like an open book? Could she just look at him and know that his mother was ill, that he hated smiling, that his father hits him? Another thing that he could not understand was why he found it so easy to talk to her. What made her so different from all of his other friends? And why was it that the more he talked with Gabrielle the more things he wanted to tell her? She seemed familiar to him, reminded him of someone, yet he could not figure out who. Knowing it would eventually come to him, he decided to set that matter aside.

"It is not that I never get chances to speak," Enjolras admitted. "It is that I rarely have someone to speak with."

"What about Marius?" Gabrielle asked. "Or Eponine?"

Enjolras sighed and shook his head. "They would not understand," he quietly explained. "You seem to understand better than either of them ever could." Enjolras sighed and looked down. "Just you and Mother."

"Your mother?" Gabrielle asked. Enjolras looked over at her, wishing he hadn't said anything. "What is she like, Elliott?"

Enjolras thought for a moment. How could he explain his mother without saying too much? "I look like her," he began. "She has an undying love for life and France and finds the good and beauty in everything, even my father." Gabrielle frowned but Enjolras pretended to ignore it. "She asks of my day every night when I come home and we talk until she is tired or until my father interrupts." A lump came to his throat as he remembered the night before. His heart swelled with hatred for his father. "I always remember to say goodbye to her before I leave for the day." He almost added, "Because I am sometimes afraid that she won't be there when I come back," but decided against it, knowing it was a bit to personal to share with someone he had just met.

"She sounds like a wonderful lady," Gabrielle told him, admiration expressed in her voice. "It is good to know how much you care for her." Gabrielle directed a smile toward Enjolras. "You are a good son."

"I try to be," Enjolras said, half to himself.

"I'll bet you do a great job, Elliot." Gabrielle looked up at him just in time to see a small smile grace his lips for a brief moment before going back to his usual straight face. "Did you just smile?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Enjolras straightened himself up and became more stiff.

"All right then, Elliott," Gabrielle agreed with a sly smile. She knew what she had seen. "I will let you win this one time."

"Win what?" Enjolras asked her. "Since when are we playing a game?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Gabrielle mocked, giggling.

Enjolras loosened up a bit. "Then it appears we are agreed," he said.

"It appears we are," Gabrielle agreed.

Enjolras tilted his head up, appearing as if he were looking at the sky. What he was really doing was hiding from his companion the small smile on his face. He did not want her to see his smile, though he wondered why not. What was so wrong with smiling? Then he remembered. His father.

"It is a beautiful day, don't you think?" Gabrielle asked.

"Oh yes," the young man answered, pretending to take notice of the sky. He quickly regained his more serious composure and stopped smiling before looking down at Gabrielle.

"You don't have to hide your smile from me, Elliott," Gabrielle told him, smiling.

"Do tell me what it is you are talking about," Enjolras asked of her. "I, Elliott Enjolras, do not smile."

"If you say so," Gabrielle laughed. She spotted a park bench. "Could we sit? My legs are beginning to ache."

"Certainly," Enjolras said, walking her to the bench. He stood behind the bench as she sat.

Gabrielle tilted her head up to look up at Enjolras. "Sit with me, Elliott," she told him. Enjolras looked torn. "Rest your legs, monsieur." Enjolras shrugged and sat down on the other side of the bench. Gabrielle smiled, though she wished he wouldn't sit so far away from her. "Look at the sun," she stated, pointing toward the horizon.

Enjolras looked to where she was pointing. Had they really been out all afternoon? The sun was beginning to set. It was too early for the day to end. Deep down, he wanted to talk more with his new friend. It beat sitting at home, fearing that his mother could die after every coughing fit she would have. He knew that she was only hanging on for him. His heart was torn, yet he wasn't ready to let her go. He wanted her to be happy, but did not want her to leave him. It made him feel selfish. The way he saw it was that God should not take away the one good thing in a young man's life. It would not be fair.

"It is beautiful," Gabrielle mused. She stared dreamily at the sunset, almost as if she had forgotten Enjolras was there. "I would give anything to paint a sunset like that one day."

"You will," Enjolras told her, bringing her back to reality. "And it shall be grand."

"You think so, Elliott?" she asked, still gazing at the sky.

"I do," Enjolras said. He stood up and offered Gabrielle his hand. "Shall we get going, Gabrielle?" he asked. Gesturing to the sunset he said, "The sun is beginning to set and I am doubtful of your parents appreciating that you were out late for yet another night."

"You are right, Elliott," Gabrielle stated, allowing Enjolras to help her up. She took his arm as he offered it to her and together they began to walk to her home. "I would like to thank you once again for inviting me along for your walk today, Elliott. It was very enjoyable."

"The pleasure is all mine, Gabrielle," he told her.

As they walked on, Gabrielle blushed and smiled a lot, which brightened Enjolras' spirits. They would tell each other entertaining stories from their lives. Enjolras only dared to smile when Gabrielle wasn't looking, yet he could not understand why he was smiling or why he felt he needed to hide it. And then he remembered a vow he had made to himself. He swore to himself that he would never smile for another human being unless he cared for them the way he did his mother, unless he loved them enough. The other thing that bothered him was why Gabrielle made him smile. He had just met her and knew for a fact that he definitely did not love her. He enjoyed her companionship and respected her as a woman, but that was as far as it went for him.

"Here we are," Gabrielle stated as they neared her house. She looked up at the colorful sky.

"We arrived already?" Enjolras asked. Gabrielle smiled and then nodded at Enjolras. "Then I must bid you goodnight," he told her. Both looked at the sky for a moment and quietly sighed. "I hope to see you again soon, Gabrielle," he said as they turned back to each other. He grabbed her hands in his and kissed them softly.

"Could I see you again tomorrow?" Gabrielle asked, shocking her friend.

Enjolras stood there for a moment. "Tomorrow?" he asked. "At the market?"

"Yes, of course," Gabrielle answered.

"I will see you there," he stated.

Gabrielle put a hand on his shoulder and giggled. "Until then, my friend." She patted his shoulder and took her hand back. "Goodnight, Elliott." She walked to her front door and opened it.

"Goodnight, Gabrielle," he called to her before walking away.

Gabrielle blushed and walked inside, leaning against the door when she closed it. She sighed just as her mother walked into the front hall.

"Who was that boy?" Sylvie demanded.

"Mama!" Gabrielle exclaimed out of surprise.

Jacques joined them. "Was that the Enjolras boy?" he demanded.

"Papa!" Gabrielle gulped. "Yes, that was Elliott Enjolras," she told them.

"An Enjolras!" exclaimed Sylvie. "My daughter and the Enjolras boy?!" she angrily shouted.

"Mama, what are you talking about?" Gabrielle asked, confused.

"Are you courting him?" her father asked.

"No, Papa," she answered. "We only take walks together."

"Did he bring you home last night?" Sylvie demanded.

"Yes, Mama. It was dark and he insisted that he should talk me home."

"Such a gentleman," Jacques remarked. "His mother must have raised him." He became irritable once more. "Gentleman or not, he is still an Enjolras!"

Sylvie gasped at her husband. "We must not say things like that about the Enjolras family," she snapped.

"What is the matter with them?" Gabrielle asked of her parents.

"Rebels, fighters, liars, every last one of them," Jacques scoffed, stiffening up. Gabrielle frowned as she thought about how kind and gentle Enjolras seemed to be. "If he is anything like the other men in his family, I would like you to stay away from him, Gabbie."

"Papa!" Gabrielle interjected.

"Gabrielle!" her father snapped. "It would be for your own good!"

"But you have it all wrong, Papa!" Gabrielle grabbed one of his hands with both of hers and kissed it. "He is a nice man!"

Jacques ripped his hand back. "And what makes you, Gabrielle, think that he is not just after you for your innocence?"

Gabrielle gasped. "He would never!"

"It runs in his blood, Gabrielle," Jacques angrily told his daughter. "Enjolras men like their women."

"And poor Eleanor," sighed Sylvie.

"Who is Eleanor?" Gabrielle asked.

"Eleanor is the boy's mother," Sylvie explained. "She is very ill. It is said that she is only holding on for her son's sake." She sighed. "What a sad, sad family they are." Sylvie looked up. "May God watch over the Enjolras house."

"How strange. Elliott was just talking about his mother today," Gabrielle thought aloud, "yet he neglected to mention that she was ill." She remembered something and turned to her father. "Know this, Papa," she began. "Although Elliott barely mentioned his father, he talked of how he was nothing like him." Her voice had a hint of sadness in it as she said, "And Papa, when he met up with me today, he had bruises on his face. Papa, I think his father hit him."

"I would not put that past an Enjolras." Jacques scoffed. "The boy probably asked for it. You just be careful, Gabrielle," he warned, pointing at his daughter. "Now get ready for bed."

As Gabrielle prepared for bed, Enjolras had reached his home. The first thing her heard was his mother calling for him. He made his way to the stairs as her heard her cry his name once more. Halfway up the stairs, she called again and he froze. In his mind, he could hear his father telling him to ignore her. His hand went to his bruised cheek and he lightly touched it, wincing in pain. If he went down to his mother, it would happen again.

Suddenly he heard it, a violent coughing fit. "Mother?" he called down as soon as it was done. There was no answer. He waited a moment before calling to her once again, still receiving no answer. Enjolras began to panic and ran down the stairs and to her room. She was motionless as she lay there so still. A lump came to the son's throat. "Mother?" he weakly asked.

Eleanor stirred and Enjolras breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Elliott, is that you?" she weakly asked.

Enjolras sat down on the chair next to his mother's bed and grabbed her hand. "It's me," he told her.

"I was calling for you," she told him. "Did you hear me?" Enjolras bit his lip as his guilt twisted his stomach into a knot. "No matter," she sighed. "Did you see her today?"

"Did I see who?" Enjolras asked, only focusing on Eleanor.

"Did you see Gabrielle today?" Eleanor softly asked.

Enjolras smiled at her when she looked at him. "I did, Mother." Eleanor smiled at her son. "She is a very nice girl," he told his mother. "She even paints like you used to."

"That's lovely," Eleanor dreamily commented.

"Boy!" Enjolras turned to see Andre standing in the doorway. "Get to my study!"

"He will go no such place!" Eleanor angrily snapped with all of the courage that she once possessed. "Don't think that I can't see what you did last night!" She weakly pointed an accusing finger at her husband. "You hit my son, Andre! You hit him, and you left a mark!" Eleanor turned to her son. "And you, Elliott, should know better than to hide something like that from me!" She sighed. "Couldn't you two just try to get along for my sake? That is all I ask!" Her body began trembling as she coughed violently. She couldn't breathe as her face turned a deep red. After a few moments, she stopped coughing as well as moving. The silence that followed was deafening.

"Is she dead?" Andre quietly asked Enjolras, who moved his hand to her wrist and felt a pulse. The son quietly shook his head. "You see what you did here, Elliott? You could have killed her." Enjolras blinked back tears as he looked at his motionless mother. "I think you should leave now. Just go upstairs and stay there."

"Mother would prefer that I stay here," Enjolras stated, struggling to keep his voice from shaking.

"I don't give a damn about what your mother would prefer!" Andre bellowed at him.

"Well I do," Enjolras stated, "and I'm staying here." He grabbed Eleanor's hand again. "You may abandon her at her time of need, but I will not. She never abandoned me, so I shall not abandon her."

"You think you are all high and mighty, don't you, boy?" Enjolras stiffened up. "You think that just by sitting with her you can save her? She is already gone."

"That is not true," Enjolras firmly stated, struggling to control his temper.

"Soon enough she won't even remember your name or know who you are. Is that what you want, Elliott?" Enjolras gulped. "It is best if you leave her alone from now on."

Enjolras shook his head. "I cannot do that."

"You will do as I say, boy," Andre growled.

"You cannot keep me from my mother," Enjolras simply told him.

Those words made Enjolras' blood turn cold. He had convinced himself that Eleanor was getting better. She had to be! He had told himself that she needed him, but deep down he knew that it was he who needed her. As he looked at her pale face he realized that it was only a matter of time before she went on to be with God. Knowing that, Enjolras did something he hadn't done in years. Enjolras simply grabbed his mother's hand and wept with all he had.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"My father knows your father," Gabrielle told Enjolras one day as they walked. It had been six weeks since they had met, in which they would walk together every day as long as the weather permitted it.

Enjolras kicked a rock across the pavement. "So he knows the bastard of a devil my father is," he grumbled. It had come to the point where Enjolras hated his father with every living matter in his being. Eleanor's health was now rapidly deteriorating and Andre continued to taunt his son with it. One night, Enjolras even jumped up from the chair at his mother's bedside, fists clenched and ready for a fight, and only the words from his mother held him back. For her sake, Enjolras sat back down without laying a hand on his father. Only for his mother would he ever back down. Only for Eleanor.

"Papa does not exactly describe him in that way, but yes," Gabrielle agreed.

Enjolras let out a small, sarcastic laugh. "I could think of worse."

"That is rather disrespectful to you father, don't you think?"

"Not in the least," Enjolras stated, stiffening up.

"Why do you have so much hatred toward him?"

Enjolras took a deep breath. "I cannot tell you." Gabrielle frowned and he hesitated. "I will," he finally decided. He cleared his throat. "Gabrielle, do you recall the first day we had walked together?"

"Your father gave you those bruises?" Enjolras slowly nodded. "What was his reason?"

"It is nothing," Enjolras quickly told her. He was still not yet comfortable with talking about his mother.

"What does your mother think?"

Enjolras froze. "She doesn't," he quietly stated. "We keep it from her. We would rather not upset her. She would not be able to take it," he finished, voice a near whisper.

"Your mother, she's sick, isn't she?" Gabrielle asked him.

Enjolras looked sharply at his companion. "What do you know of my mother?" he angrily snapped at her. Gabrielle gasped and cautiously stepped back, frightened. Enjolras suddenly recalled his place and hung his head. "I am sorry, Gabrielle," he told her, refusing to look up. "I forgot my place and did not mean it." He then dared to look up at his friend and cautiously offered her his arm. "Would you like to continue our walk? If you do not wish to, I would not blame you."

Gabrielle accepted his arm and they began to walk again. "It's quite alright," she assured.

"Gabbie!" Gabrielle looked over to find Eponine and Marius walking toward them. "Where in the world have you been?" she asked. "I have not seen you since the day we ran into these two!"

"I am out every day, Ponine," Gabrielle laughed.

"Why is it that I never see you?" Eponine asked her friend.

"And you, Enjolras?" Marius asked.

"I am out every day as well," Enjolras answered.

Eponine paused as she finally figured it out. "I see what is going on here," she laughed.

Gabrielle and Enjolras looked away as Marius, confused, asked, "What really is going on here?"

Eponine sighed. "Marius, Enjolras and Gabbie go on walks together."

"Every day?" Marius asked. Enjolras nodded. "What about your father?"

"What about him?" Enjolras coldly snapped. "The only thing he demands is that I stay away from my mother!" Realizing that he had said too much, he quickly closed his mouth and looked down.

"Your mother, how is she?" Marius asked. Enjolras refused to answer. "Is she worse?"

Enjolras tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. "I would rather not talk about it," he quietly said. "My mother is none of your concern!" He took a deep breath and regained his composure. "I will not speak of her."

"And that is perfectly fine," Eponine told him. Enjolras looked over at her. "We are not making you."

Gabrielle smiled at him. "We shall no longer mention her, Elliott." She looked over at Marius. "Is that not right, Marius?" Marius slowly nodded. "Very well then." Gabrielle took Enjolras' arm before he had time to offer it. "Shall we continue our walk now?" Enjolras looked at her and nodded. "Would you two like to join us?" she asked Eponine and Marius.

"No thank you," Eponine said, answering for both her and Marius. She discreetly winked at Gabrielle. "Come along, Marius," she said as she began to walk away. "It was good seeing you both," she called as Marius followed behind.

"Where would you like to go, mademoiselle?" Enjolras asked his friend.

Gabrielle looked up at the sky. The sun would be setting soon. "Walking to the park and then my house sounds grand," she told him. "The sun will be setting soon enough." As they walked on together in silence a thought came to her head. "Elliott?" Enjolras hummed, acknowledging her. "Why do you walk with me every day?"

Enjolras was startled, confused as to why she would ask such a question. He had never really thought of it. Why did he want to walk with her so much? Was it to get out of the house? Then he finally realized it. Whenever he spoke with Gabrielle, all of his troubles seemed to just disappear. Something about her calmed him and brought about a sense that everything was going to be alright, just like his mother did. That was why he wanted to walk with her every day, but he refused to tell her that.

"I enjoy your company," he told her. "You are very easy to speak with. I actually enjoy speaking with you more than I do with Marius," he admitted.

"You do?" Gabrielle asked him, trying not to express her surprise in her voice. "Why is that?"

Enjolras thought for a moment. "We are alike, Gabrielle."

"How are we alike?" Gabrielle looked up at Enjolras and smiled.

"It is hard to explain, Gabrielle," he answered.

"I understand," Gabrielle told him. "I feel it too." The two of them laughed, Gabrielle more cheery than her companion. "You are a very nice man, Elliott. Your mother and father raised you well."

"You mean my mother," Enjolras sighed. "My father was hardly around when I was growing up." Knowing he should stop talking, he closed his mouth. Moments later, his mouth opened once more. "Mother always thought he was off with business. I did as well, until I saw him with one of his mistresses. And when I told my mother she cried for hours. Though I was only fifteen years old at the time, I took a stand against my father. If you thought I looked horrid on the day we took our first walk together, you should have seen me after I had stood up to my father." Enjolras struggled to silence himself once more but couldn't. "My father is a wicked man, just like all of the other Enjolras men! I despise them all and am ashamed to be one of them!"

"Is that so?" Enjolras and Gabrielle turned around to see none other than Andre Enjolras standing behind them.

Enjolras gulped. "Father! When did you get here?"

Andre ignored him. "So you are ashamed of being an Enjolras, are you not?" He cleared his throat. "And just what makes you so different from the rest of us? What makes you so much better than I am?"

"I am a gentleman," Enjolras calmly answered. "If I loved a woman, I would love her and only her. I would never lay a hand on any child of mine. Lastly, I would never turn away from my wife in her time of need." He locked eyes with his father. "That, Father, is how I am better than you."

"And I take it that you love this girl?" Andre demanded, gesturing to Gabrielle.

"You leave Gabrielle out of this!" snapped Enjolras.

"So this is Gabrielle," Andre mused, "the girl you discuss with your mother?"

Gabrielle looked over at Enjolras, surprised, before he said, "The relation between Gabrielle and myself is none of your concern," he told Andre, struggling to remain calm.

"Are you courting her? Are you wishing to marry her one day?" Andre taunted. "Then she can know of your temper. She'll see that you are not as different from me as you claim to be."

"I am nothing like you!" Enjolras could feel all of the anger that had been building up inside of him for years and was trying his best to control it.

"Maybe not now," Andre told him, "but as you grow older you will see. You may consider yourself a charming young man right now, Elliott, but you will always be an Enjolras, and Enjolras men are capable of being terrible." He noticed the setting sun. "Go and get the girl home, boy," he commanded of his son. As Enjolras and Gabrielle began to walk away, he added, "I'll be in my study tonight, Elliott. You had better be there, too."

"You were right about your father," Gabrielle commented as Enjolras walked her home. "He does not appear to be a very nice man at all." She looked up at the dark clouds that were filling the sky.

"He could have easily been worse," Enjolras grumbled as he, too, looked up at the sky and frowned at the clouds. He hated rain. "I am sorry, Gabrielle. You should not have had to witness that." He turned red. "Ever since I told my mother I had met you, she asks about you every night." Gabrielle smiled. "Though she has never met you, she likes you."

"What do you say about me?" Gabrielle curiously asked.

"I talk to her about our walks. She loves to hear about things outside of our house. My mother loves France, everything about it. She lives and breathes our country. If only she knew what was happening to it."

"So that is why you hate the government," Gabrielle concluded. "Is there anything at all that you may like about it?"

"Not in the least." The young gentleman stiffened. "It is full of liars who only want power. They do not care about the people who reside here. Power is all that they want, and they shall stop at nothing until they possess all of it."

"You are quite passionate about this, Elliott," Gabrielle observed.

Enjolras let out a small laugh. "You think so?"

"Of course," Gabrielle laughed. "Who knows, maybe one day you shall lead a revolution and take down the government."

Enjolras almost smiled. "We shall see about that, Gabrielle," he told her. "It is a thought, though."

"I was not being serious," Gabrielle laughed.

"Serious or not, that may be an idea someday," Enjolras mused. Gabrielle stopped walking, causing Enjolras to trip. "What is it, Gabrielle?" he asked.

She pointed at the house next to them. "We have reached my home," she explained.

"So we have," Enjolras said. There was a loud crack of thunder that startled Gabrielle. "You should get inside," he told her as the rain began to fall.

"I cannot let you walk home in this rain." Gabrielle grabbed his hand and began leading him toward the house. "Come with me, Elliott."

Enjolras took his hand back. "I will walk home," he stated.

"Without an umbrella?" Gabrielle questioned. "At least let me get that for you. Wouldn't want you to fall ill when I knew there was a way for me to prevent it. Now come on," she encouraged, grabbing his hand and leading him once more. Enjolras, knowing how stubborn Gabrielle was, had no choice but to follow.

Both were dripping wet once inside the house. Gabrielle quietly closed the door as Enjolras silently stood next to her, nervous about being in the home of another person. Marius' home was the only other one he had ever been in, and that was only for a moment. Enjolras closed his eyes and prayed her to quickly retrieve the umbrella so he could leave.

"Gabrielle, is that you, dear?" Sylvie called from the study. Enjolras' eyes quickly snapped open.

"Yes Mama!" Gabrielle called back. "Wait here," she told Enjolras before hurrying off into another room.

Enjolras sighed and leaned against the wall, wishing he could be on his way home. He felt out of place as he stood alone in Gabrielle's front hall. Closing his eyes once more, he prayed that Gabrielle's parents would not see him.

"Are you the Enjolras boy?" Enjolras heard a man ask. He slowly and cautiously opened his eyes to see Jacques LeVesque standing before him. Enjolras slowly nodded, afraid of what would happen next. "You see my daughter on every day when the weather permits it?" Jacques asked. Enjolras, still speechless, nodded. "And you walk her home?" The young man nodded once more. "Tell me, son, what is your name?"

"Elliott Enjolras," he managed to say.

"You are the son of Andre and Eleanor Enjolras?" Enjolras nodded. "I know your father," Jacques told him, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Enjolras suddenly to note of where this conversation was headed. Jacques was thinking that he, Enjolras, wanted to seduce his daughter. "My father is not a good man, monsieur," he stated. "He is a terrible and evil man." Jacques raised an eyebrow. "I assure you that I am in no way like him. I take after my mother."

"But you are still an Enjolras," Jacques stated. Enjolras gulped and prayed for Gabrielle to return. "And how am I to know whether you are like your father or not? My daughter is the only one who knows you, and her judgment on people is not so clear, even more so when she has a fondness for them."

"I mean no harm." Enjolras wanted, more than anything, to just leave. He no longer protested to walking in the rain. "I enjoy her company."

"In what way?" Jacques questioned.

Enjolras was beginning to sweat. "Monsieur, I am not sure what you mean," he said, although he knew exactly what Jacques meant. Jacques thought they did more than just walk, a lot more.

"I know you know what I mean, Enjolras," Jacques said, narrowing his eyes.

"Papa!" Gabrielle cried out, walking back into the front hall with an umbrella. "Leave him alone!"

"Gabrielle, you brought an Enjolras into our home!" Jacques yelled.

"He is nothing like the rest of them!" Gabrielle insisted.

"I should go," Enjolras quietly said. "Perhaps I shall see you tomorrow, Gabrielle. It was nice meeting you, monsieur. Goodnight." With that, he quickly opened the door and ran out into the rain.

"Papa, what did you say to him?" Gabrielle angrily demanded.

"I said nothing that should not have been said," Jacques stiffly stated.

"I know you don't like his father, Papa, but you should see how different the two of them really are!"

"How do you know this? You have not met his father!"

"Oh, I have, Papa! I met him today! He is not a nice man! Elliott stood up for me, stood up to him!" Gabrielle was nearly trembling with rage. "Papa, may never talk to me again!" Tears began to spill down her cheeks. "He was my friend!" She stiffened up. "Goodnight, Papa."

"Gabrielle, I am sorry," Jacques told his daughter. "Let me try to make things right."

Enjolras did not stop running until he was halfway home. His angry tears mixed with the rain on his face. Once he stopped, he fell to his knees on the pavement. He was so humiliated. Why did his father have to give him a terrible reputation? Enjolras slammed his hand down on the pavement, letting out a growl of rage.

When Enjolras got home he threw open the doors to his father's study and stormed in. "Father!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Andre. "I am ashamed to have your last name, to associate with you, to be your son!"

"Elliott, you have forgotten your place!" Andre shouted back, standing up behind his desk.

"No Father! It is you who have forgotten yours!" Enjolras' breathing became heavy. "You are supposed to be my father! A father looks out for his son! A father teaches his son what is right! And a father never hits his son the way you hit me!" Not knowing how else to channel his anger at that moment, Enjolras punched the solid oak door next to him and knocked it off its hinges.

"You really are and Enjolras, Elliott," Andre commented as Enjolras stared in shock at the large, heavy door on the floor.

"I am not," Enjolras whispered to himself as he began to feel the nearly unbearable pain in his hand. "No…" He angrily pointed as his father. "You did this!" he shouted.

"I did nothing," Andre calmly told his son. "Your inner Enjolras has finally been released and you will not be able to hold it back any longer."

"It is not so!" Enjolras shouted. "I am nothing like you!"

Andre gestured to the broken door. "I am not the one who broke my door, Elliott. You did that." Enjolras shook his head in denial "Yes Elliott. That was all your doing."

"No!" Enjolras shook his head. "I am not like you!" He backed out of the study. "I will never be like you!" The young man ran to his bedroom and closed the door, taking deep breaths. "I am a calm young gentleman," he kept telling himself as he spent the rest of the night cradling his aching hand and pacing the floor of his bedroom in the pale moonlight, terrified of what he hoped he would never become.

As Enjolras leaned against a building at the market the next morning he struggled to keep his eyes open. He had been up all night pacing, thinking. Not for one moment did he shut his eyes or try to sleep. Now as he waited for Gabrielle to arrive he had to fight sleep. But as much as he fought his eyelids became too heavy to bear.

Gabrielle arrived at the market awhile later. As she searched for Enjolras she feared that he had not come after what had occurred the night before. Just as she was about to leave and return home she spotted him. He was sitting against a wall, fast asleep. He looked so peaceful that she feared to wake him. In her eyes, he looked like a sleeping angel, fallen straight from Heaven.

"Elliott?" she softly asked, standing over him. She bent down. "Elliott Enjolras? Can you hear me?"

Enjolras slowly opened his eyes, squinting from the sunlight. "Gabrielle," he stated.

"That would happen to be my name," she answered with a smile.

"I was afraid you would not be allowed to see me again," Enjolras admitted, careful not to even move his aching hand to the best of his ability. He had discovered that it was terribly bruised with some spots of purple and red, so he made sure of keeping it from Gabrielle's sight. "You father does not seem to fancy me."

"Are you so sure?" Gabrielle asked with a mischievous smile. Enjolras gave her a rather confused look. "It just so happens that my father would like you to join us for dinner tonight." Enjolras took a deep breath. "Elliott, please come." After a moment, he nodded. "Oh, thank you, Elliott. Papa shall approve, you shall see."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Enjolras was wide awake by the time they had reached Gabrielle's home. He wanted to back down and go home but he would never do something like that to his good friend. Gabrielle seemed excited and he did not wish to disappoint her. Even so, he still held his breath upon entering the house.

Not examining his settings, he walked in and accidentally hit his hand on something. "Dammit!" he gasped, gently grabbing his hurt hand with his healthy one, sucking in his breath and holding it as his hand throbbed in pain.

"Elliott, what happened?" Gabrielle asked.

Enjolras slipped his hand behind his back. "Just forgot something is all," he casually answered.

"You're not trying to get out of this, are you?" the young lady questioned.

"Uh…" Enjolras let out a small, nervous laugh. "Are you certain I should be here?"

"Of course," Gabrielle assured. "Papa has invited a few family friends over so you would not feel so uncomfortable."

"How nice of him," Enjolras stammered.

"Enjolras?" he heard a voice ask. Enjolras quickly looked up to see none other than Damien Combeferre, known as Combeferre by his friends, standing in the front hall with them. His big, blue eyes, although slightly hidden beneath his shaggy auburn bangs, looked Enjolras up and down. "It sure has been awhile," Combeferre commented. "Would somewhere around two months sound right?"

"Combeferre!" Enjolras had no idea what to say. He and Combeferre had been best friends growing up, along with Julien Courfeyrac, known as Courfeyrac. "It has indeed ben awhile."

"Glad to see me?" Combeferre asked with a smile.

"Very glad," Enjolras answered.

"Enjolras!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, walking in and standing next to Combeferre. "Where have you been all this while?" he asked. "You disappeared." He pushed his dark curls out of his brown eyes.

"I have been busy," Enjolras told them, worried of what they would say if they found out that he spent his days with Gabrielle and not with them.

"You know them?" Gabrielle asked Enjolras, gesturing to Courfeyrac and Combeferre.

"I do," Enjolras told her. "We are like brothers."

Combeferre walked over to Enjolras and placed a hand on his shoulder. "That we are, Enjolras. You, Courfeyrac, and myself," he stated as Courfeyrac walked over to join them. He and Courfeyrac smiled as Enjolras kept a straight face. "Still not smiling?" Combeferre asked his straight-faced friend.

"Why should I?" Enjolras asked.

"For one thing, we are in the presence of Mademoiselle LeVesque," Courfeyrac stated, gesturing to Gabrielle, who blushed. "You are most certainly here because of her."

"Do either of you have any idea what happened last night?" Enjolras asked his two friends, voice dark and forbidding.

"Elliott," Gabrielle began, "we have no need to speak of that."

"It was once I arrived home," Enjolras quietly explained.

"You went to your father's study," Gabrielle softly stated. Enjolras slowly nodded and brought his hurt hand out from behind his back. Gabrielle and the other two gentlemen gasped. "He hurt you," she quietly concluded as she looked at his red and purple hand.

"No," Enjolras quietly said, bowing his head in shame. "I did that."

"How is there any way you could have done that?" Combeferre asked, trying not to stare at his friend's crippled hand.

"I really am an Enjolras," he shamefully admitted. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I knocked down one of the doors to my father's study," he sighed as he raised his hand, "with one blow."

"Elliott, the bones look shattered!" Gabrielle exclaimed. She grabbed Enjolras' healthy hand. "We must get you to my father."

Enjolras ripped his hand back and turned toward the door. "No! He cannot know! I must go now!"

"Not so fast," Combeferre stated as he and Courfeyrac each grabbed one of Enjolras' arms, careful of his hand. "You must get to a doctor." Enjolras struggled to break free from his two friends. "Calm yourself this instant!" Combeferre commanded. Enjolras stopped struggling. "Monsieur LeVesque does not need to know what you did," he said, lowering his voice. "Gabrielle has been telling false truths to him for years. She can help you. He is going to examine your hand and-"

"No!" Enjolras broke free and ran for the door, but his friends caught him. "I cannot! I cannot!"

"I would have thought you would have grown out of this by now, Enjolras," Courfeyrac sighed.

"Out of what?" Gabrielle asked.

"Enjolras broke his arm when we were children. The doctor did not set it correctly so it did not heal properly. They had to break his arm once more to set it right," Combeferre explained as Enjolras cringed from the memory. "He has despised doctors ever since, even more so now that his mother-"

"I am certain that you have said enough, Combeferre," Enjolras remarked.

"Shall we now be on our way?" Courfeyrac asked Combeferre.

"We shall," Combeferre answered.

Gabrielle went on ahead as Combeferre and Courfeyrac struggled to drag Enjolras with them. Enjolras quietly protested all the way there and demanded that his friends let him go. As they walked into the room where everyone was, Enjolras shut his mouth tight and stopped struggling.

Jacques held out his hand as Enjolras hid his behind his back. "Let me see it, Enjolras," he calmly stated. Enjolras was frozen in place. "I need to see if it needs mending."

"Elliott, let him see," Gabrielle quietly told her friend.

After a few more moments, Courfeyrac grabbed Enjolras' arm and pulled it out from behind him. Enjolras blankly stared at him. "Stay calm," Courfeyrac told him.

Jacques looked closely at Enjolras' hand. "No doubt about it, there are some broken bones in your hand." Enjolras' stomach sunk. As Jacques reached for his hand, Enjolras tried to take is back but Courfeyrac held it still. "What are you so afraid of?" Jacques asked the young man.

"You," Combeferre answered, receiving a glare from his injured companion. "He does not like doctors."

Jacques hummed his understanding before lightly touching Enjolras' wrist. Enjolras gasped in pain and tried so hard not to yell in pain as Jacques began to apply light pressure to it.

After a few moments, Enjolras could no longer take the pain. "Ouch!" He ripped his hand away from Jacques, causing him even more pain. Enjolras cursed under his breath.

"Come with me, Enjolras," Jacques said, beckoning the young gentleman to follow him as he began to leave the room. Enjolras stayed where he was. "Damien, Julien, if you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all, Monsieur LeVesque," Combeferre said as he and Courfeyrac grabbed Enjolras' arms once more and led him out of the room.

"Gabrielle, what did you say happened to the Enjolras boy's hand?" Sylvie asked of her daughter.

"It got crushed in a door," Gabrielle casually answered, wishing that she could be there for her friend. She knew all too well that it was not her place.

"The door must have been slammed rather hard," Sylvie commented, shaking her head. "What a cruel thing to do. That poor young man."

"Please," Enjolras pleaded once his friends had let go, "just leave me be." He looked up at Jacques. "I am just fine, monsieur." Jacques grabbed Enjolras' wrist, causing Enjolras to stomp his foot in pain. "Monsieur, please!"

"You are only making it worse," Jacques calmly told him.

"Listen to him, Enjolras," Courfeyrac told him. "Monsieur LeVesque knows what he's doing."

"Does he?" Enjolras angrily demanded. "How much does he know? More than my previous doctor? More than the doctors who care for my mother?"

"Drop the Enjolras behaviors," Jacques commanded him. Enjolras fell silent. "My daughter tells me that you are a kind and gentle spirit, are you not?"

"I am," Enjolras quietly agreed.

"Then why must you be so difficult?" Jacques asked. Enjolras looked down. "This is a serious matter, Enjolras. We must bandage your hand properly so that it may heal correctly. Yes, it may hurt, but it must be done."

Enjolras gulped and squeezed his eyes shut. "So be it."

Later on, the four men joined the others in the lounge. Jacques also noticed a break in Enjolras' wrist, so Enjolras felt uncomfortable with both his hand and wrist securely bandaged. He felt it was a rather bad idea to even agree to attend dinner at Gabrielle's home, now more so after being called out by his dear friend's father.

"Gabrielle, I cannot do this. I cannot stay," Enjolras told his friend.

As he turned to leave, Gabrielle grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Elliott, you told me you would stay," she reminded. Enjolras sighed. "I understand that you are not comfortable right now, but you never will be if you do not stay." She lightly squeezed his arm. "Please join us for dinner, Elliott."

Enjolras held his breath for a brief moment. "I will," he quietly agreed as he turned back to his friends.

"Thank you, Elliott," Gabrielle told him, smiling.

For the rest of the evening, Enjolras did not speak unless spoken to, fearing that he may say the wrong thing. It was not that he feared the people who were there, but because of the reputation his last name had brought upon him. He felt like a minority, inferior. That was also what he had convinced himself of. He told himself that no one wanted him there, no one but Gabrielle. In the same way Enjolras held back his anger for his mother, he managed to stay where he was for his friend.

"You have nice manners," Jacques told Enjolras, "for an Enjolras."

"Thank you, monsieur," Enjolras answered, unsure of how to respond. "This entire evening was grand. I had a wonderful time."

"Perhaps you should speak more next time, Elliott," Jacques said, smiling. Enjolras began to feel uneasy. There would be a next time?

"Uh, yes, monsieur," Enjolras quietly said. He looked out the window and noticed the dark sky. "I must get going. Perhaps tonight I shall be able to rest," he commented, raising his bandaged hand.

"Perhaps you should," Gabrielle agreed, smiling.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Monsieur LeVesque," Enjolras told Jacques, shaking his hand. "Thank you for bandaging my hand. I am terribly sorry for being so difficult." He bowed his head in shame. "It was not respectful of me."

"You are forgiven, Elliott," Jacques told him. "I would like to see you back here in one week so that I may check on your hand." Enjolras' eyes widened as he gulped. "I mean it."

"He will, Papa," Gabrielle assured. "I shall make sure of that. Let me walk you to the door, Elliott." Gabrielle led him out into the front hall. "I would like to thank you for staying tonight." Without warning, she kissed both of Enjolras' cheeks. "You are a wonderful friend, Elliott."

Enjolras was nearly beside himself, eyes widening. He cleared his throat. "Right." He grabbed Gabrielle's hand and kissed it. "Goodnight, Gabrielle. Perhaps I shall see you tomorrow?"

Gabrielle nodded. "Perhaps you shall," she agreed. "Goodnight, Elliott."

"That boy know many words that are uncalled for," Jacques commented as he joined Gabrielle in the front hall after Enjolras had left.

"What do you mean, Papa?" Gabrielle asked, turning to him.

"He swore many times as I bandaged his hands." Gabrielle was surprised to see that her father was smiling. "His vocabulary is just like his father's. Does he speak to you like that?"

"No, Papa! Never!" Gabrielle exclaimed. "I have only once heard him swear, and that was today. He hit his hand on the way in the door today."

"Ah," answered Jacques. "Gabbie, you were right about him. Elliott is nothing like the men in his family." Gabrielle smiled. "I will tell you now what I told him." She listened closely. "I have no problem with him until he creates a problem." He smiled. "After that, he simply straightened up and tried his best to keep from swearing anymore." Jacques let out a small laugh. "He struggled to keep his mouth shut, but to no avail."

"That sounds like Elliott. When he has something to say he struggles to hold it back." Gabrielle laughed. "Although he never could. When Elliott Enjolras has something to say, he will say it."

"I take it he did not have much to say this evening?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "He felt unwanted, out of place," she told her father.

"He seemed to be just fine whenever he was around Julien and Damien," Jacques commented. "Did they all know each other?"

"They grew up together," Gabrielle answered. "They told me they are like brothers." She smiled. "I do not doubt it. They all know quite a lot about each other."

"Yet no one has yet mentioned him. The entire Courfeyrac and Combeferre families were quite surprised to see him." Jacques looked unsure. "But they did look rather unsure of how they felt about him joining us." He dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. "No matter. I rather enjoyed his quiet company."

"I know he enjoyed himself, Papa," Gabrielle assured with a smile. "I know as well that he would not admit it if you were to ask." She laughed. "Elliott is rather stubborn."

"As is every Enjolras," Jacques commented.

"Papa, don't hold that against him," Gabrielle said. "Elliott really means no harm, I can assure you of that."

"As I have said," Jacques stated, "I have no problem with him until he makes a problem."

"And he shall not," Gabrielle finished. "You shall see. Elliott Enjolras is a nice and respectable young man."

"What have you done to your hand, Elliott?" Eleanor asked of her son as he sat at her bedside that night. "Who mended it?"

"I broke a few bones in it. It's nothing," Enjolras stated, shrugging it off. "Monsieur LeVesque mended it and I am to see him again in a week." He sighed. "Mother, I do not want to. He is Gabrielle's father, and he does not seem to care much for me."

"He bandaged your hand, did he not?" Eleanor asked. Enjolras kept his mouth shut, now aware of what she was about to say. "Did he ask for pay?" Enjolras shook his head. "Elliott, he certainly does not hate you." Eleanor smiled at him. "It is almost as if you see people the way your father does."

Enjolras gulped. "How does he see them?"

"Your father believes that no man does a good deed without expecting payment in return." Eleanor softly sighed. "Elliott, I also understand the reputation of our last name." She grabbed her son's hand and weakly squeezed it. "Just because you have the last name of Enjolras does not mean that you cannot be Elliott."

"Elliott Enjolras," the son stated, emphasizing his last name.

Eleanor sighed. "Why be so difficult, El?" Enjolras looked down, ashamed of upsetting his ill mother. "You do not have to be so hard on yourself, my child. I was not trying to upset you. Look at me." Enjolras slowly looked up. "Everyone is difficult at times. It does not mean you are a terrible person. You are a charming young man. Remember that."

"A charming young man who is capable of being terrible," Enjolras sighed.

Eleanor gave her son a stern look. "That is only if you make yourself to be."


End file.
